Demon Hunters
by KnockturnSeller
Summary: The hairs on Hampton's neck sprang up as raw terror swept over him. He knew something dreadful was close, something fearfully dangerous was watching him, something hideous was creeping near.


DEMON HUNTER By Knockturn Seller

PROLOGUE:

The hairs on Hampton's neck sprang up as raw terror swept over him.  
He knew something dreadful was close, something fearfully dangerous was watching him, something hideous was creeping near. A soft scrabble on concrete made him turn, a shadow cast by the overhead lights flickered against the wall of the parking garage. He bolted for his car, madly pressing the button to unlock the doors as he ran, threw the door open and jumped in. He turned and slammed the door just as that shadow he'd seen on the wall impossibly struck and pressed against his window, a black-dark smudge spreading out and over the windscreen, oozing through the upper window gasket.

He pressed the start button hard, the engine coughed and sputtered then settled into a shaky idle, barely hanging on. He looked to see the smudge had crept down the window and was peeling away from the glass,  
angling outward toward him. He yanked the shifter into reverse and stamped his foot on the accelerator, the engine whimpered and coughed, spun up and the car jerked backwards just as the shadow peeled off the inside of his window and waved toward him with small tendrils elongating in thin fingers of utter darkness . He screamed in panic, the tendrils reached for him and the engine died.

He jammed his thumb on the starter button but nothing happened, his eyes turned to the shadow-covered window and he jumped away from the reaching tendrils to land in the passenger seat. Through the windshield he saw a man twenty meters away raise his arm, some kind of strangely colored light leapt from his hand to impact the shape clinging to the outside of his window. The shadow glowed a little then lit up in small sparkles of actinic brightness amongst the knots of deepest black. Then the whole thing lit up with painfully bright electric sparks and the shadow solidified into a Moorcock horror for a brief moment, flared once and was gone. A few more sparks and drooping smudges of that utter dark dripped out of the air to dissipate in grey wisps of greasy smoke.

Hampton sat there staring at his window while he tried to put together a rational picture of what he's just seen even as his heart pounded in adrenalin fueled terror. A tap on the passenger door and he bounced off the seat from fright once again.

"Good show, Ham," the man said. "Would you be so kind as to unlock the door for me?"

In a voice that quavered and squeaked, Hampton said, "Dill ... Dillard?  
That you?"

CHAPTER ONE: THE HUNTER

"Do you have any idea how dangerous your world is?" Dillard asked.

Jerrel Hampton was sitting across from him in the tea shop and got a quizzical look. "Well, crossing the street can be dangerous. There's rat-assed drivers, kids with their drugs, nut cases all over the place."

Dillard shook his head with a look of pity. "Oh no, those are ordinary dangers. I'm talking about the truly serious dangers."

"Terrorists?" he asked.

"Bah. Still ordinary and human, mostly," Dillard said. "The truly horrific things in this world you can only see in a nightmare or perhaps a psychotic break from reality. Mind sucking monsters, psy-ghosts, Rogue Fiends, Blood Ogres and other things caused by ignorant, or worse, by knowing idiots that think they can control dark forces in the mania of insanity. Imagine an entity addicted to fear, your fear, one that sucks the juices of fear from its victims,  
one that cannot live without regular feedings of the terror it induces. That's what you saw. It's called a Lamprey Ghoul."

Dillard sipped his tea with nonchalance. "One of the ways these monsters come into being is from a wizard using Dark magic. When they die,  
what they created loses coherence. We had quite a time when we were first called over to help; there was this cave that had been filled with evil makings, but when he died, well, there was a lot of power released, the power he put into it. Conservation of energy can't be violated even by magic.  
Took us weeks to clear that place out of the hellish monsters created."

With a look as if he was talking to a madman, Hampton said, "That's nonsense, fiction. Like vampires, witches, Grimm's Fairy Tales, stories told around campfires or in the second rate movies that seem to be so popular."

Dillard sipped his tea. "And you believe it's all made up, just something to frighten children or adults that should know better? There are worse fears that those dreamed up in your philosophies, Horatio, if I may paraphrase.  
How do you think those stories get told? Who makes such things up? What is the process they use? How do such ideas come about? Ever wonder about it?"

Hampton chuffed his breath. "People get paid to dream scary things up. It's just a progression of ideas built upon each other. Mary Shelley dreamed up Frankenstein as an answer to a challenge of her friends. Bram Stoker made up a truly original idea based on Carpathian folk tales likely describing the ravages of rabies on a person and has been copied a million times over. Then there's the fantasy writers. Rather than working for a living they dream and write. If it sells they eat, if it doesn't they wait tables or wash dishes. I don't see anything sinister there, just people with imagination making a living out of scaring others with their stories."

Dillard took another slow sip and put his cup down. "In our world there are peaceful things calmly and deliberately going about their business every day. Then come predators to prey upon them, claw them apart and consume their living flesh while their heart is still beating. Does that image ring true for you? If it does then push it higher and further until it's at a nightmare level. Remind you of the garage?"

Hampton had an amused look in his eyes. "It's the way of things, small organisms producing food to be eaten, those that eat the plants to be eaten by the predators. I don't know what I saw in the garage and I'm not worried about not knowing, I'm just glad its gone. Since we're both intelligent and educated men, might I ask where this is going?"

"Those predators I mentioned," Dillard said, "they are quite real. They do feed on our fear, induce it, amplify it by any means possible, rip it from its victim then consume it. I'm one of a group that hunts those predators;  
we call them demons. I'm a Demon Hunter."

Hampton snorted. "Demons? Up til now I was interested in this conversation but if you're going to invoke fantasy we should change the subject to Dungeons and Dragons. What really happened in the garage?"

Dillard calmly sipped his tea. "We're always on the lookout for those sensitive to the presence of demons. I've been watching you for as long as we've known each other. The one that found you, I'd been hunting it for a week. It was attracted to you because you are sensitive. If you can detect them you can track them. I can destroy them."

Hampton tried hard to keep himself together but lost it and laughed out loud. "Nice one, Dill. I walked right into it too. I've always admired the way you can tell a joke or pull a prank without the slightest change of expression and this is one of your best ever. Really now, what happened in the garage?"

Dillard reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. "American made of hickory and Augurey feather. Had it most of my life. It's more a part of me than the watch I wear." He held it casually, letting Hampton see it,  
saw the amused look then saw disappointment when he didn't make a joke about it. He waved it back and forth with a practiced familiarity.

Hampton looked at it and burst out in laughter again. "Really well done. Even brought a prop to make the jape loads better. You really know how to pull a prank to the fullest. Is that what you used in the garage?  
How's it light?"

Dillard moved his wand, muttered under his breath then gave it a swish and a flick saying, "Wingardium leviosa." Hampton rose out of his chair and was over the table before he could grab onto anything, panic showing in his eyes as he floated a couple meters in the air.

"Hey, what the ...?" he sputtered. "Get me down. This isn't funny."

Dillard looked at his friend with an amused look. "No, it's not funny.  
Neither is anything I've been trying to tell you. Do you think you're ready to listen now?"

"Yeah, yeah, anything," he said, "just let me down." Hampton glanced around the room but no one seemed to notice him, no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to him floating in the air at all. In fact, no one was sitting closer than two tables from them in what was otherwise rather a crowded little shop. Quite odd, really. So was flying above the table.

Dillard eased his wand downwards, setting Hampton back in his chair easy as can be. Hampton looked around, waved his arms about his head a moment, looking for magician's wires at a guess, then stared hard.

In a shaky voice, he asked, "Wha ... what happened? How'd you do that?"

Dillard gave an easy smile. "Do what?"

"You ... you ... levitated me," Hampton said, still shaky in the voice.

"Now how can I do that?" Dillard asked, smiling. "It's all a fantasy."

Hampton gazed back with a touch of fear in his eyes. "You ... no one can do that. It's a trick. I've seen it on stage, but it's a trick."

"I see," Dillard said. "So magic doesn't exist? The demons I talked about, they must not exist either. But then, when you think about it, perhaps they do. What do you think, Hampton? Was it a trick of light or a Lamprey Ghoul going after you? Or perhaps you think I'm a wizard or something?"

That stopped Hampton in his tracks. He saw the obvious logic trap, but he really did levitate, he felt it, saw it. It had to be real and if it was real then, well, there was something fishy going on. That had to be it.

"No, magic can't exist," Hampton said but didn't sound all that convinced. "So how'd you do that? What was the trick?"

With a grin Dillard said, "No trick. You have heard of Schrodinger's Uncertainty Principle haven't you? It's one of the tenets for quantum theory.  
It says the error of measurement in position and velocity of a particle times the mass of the particle must equal a non-zero result. There's no way around it any more than there's a way around the speed of light. It means,  
among other things, that something can be in a state of anywhere at a measured zero velocity or the speed of light at a discrete, measured point.

"One theory is we can continually alter our perception under Uncertainty in a way that allows energy input to a system to alter that system. What that means for you sitting at this table is if I was very clever,  
if I could continually alter the wave equation of existence, then I could cause particles or objects to alter their condition of state, again continually, to put them all in a different referent frame. For instance to nullify gravity briefly.  
That must have been what happened to you, don't you think? Levitation I believe you called it."

Hampton looked at Dillard. "I caught most of that, though applying it to me right here and right now is a little mind boggling. What did you really do?"

"You know, it's kind of spooky," Dillard commented, "but you're not really touching that seat you're on. Did you know that? Your atoms are very close to it, but they can never, never touch, repelled by electrostatic forces.  
Just think if you could control those electrostatic forces, allow certain things to, well, almost touch, while others are repelled and, though they might come close, might never get close enough to interact. In other words, if you could do this you could shield against others or use it as a weapon."

Dillard raised his wand again and Hampton put up his hands. "Okay, I won't demonstrate again if you prefer not to know. But you must realize where that puts your reality. Not everything is what you believe, the earth isn't as solid as you think, that chair isn't either. You can get quite close but you can never touch, not really touch. Can you accept that?"

"I sort of remember that from college, but I was in finance and business courses mostly," Hampton said. "Only a year of chemistry because it was required. Kind of fun, actually. But you're talking over my head."

Dillard sipped his tea and said, "Not really. It was all there in that first year chemistry course but it must not have made an impression. So far you haven't explained what happened a few minutes ago. I've laid the groundwork so you can move on from where you were to where you need to be."

Hampton thought a moment in silence then said, "In that case, you started this conversation out on monsters and demons and how the world is a lot more dangerous than I think it is. Now you're talking about physics after what I think you did to me. I presume you have a reason for all this.  
Assuming of course, that you're not insane and I haven't taken any hallucinogenic drugs in my tea."

Dillard quirked a smile. "I said the world is a dangerous place. What would you do to keep it as safe as possible for your neighbors? For that matter, for complete strangers you'll never meet and will never know nor appreciate the fact that you have done this thing. What would you give up?  
How much of your life would you dedicate to the fight? And at the first serious fright, would you run or stand your ground though you know it may mean your immediate death? Or something worse than death. What would you give?"

Hampton looked across the table. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Deadly serious."

"I'm obviously no warlock so I can't help ..."

"Don't use that word," Dillard shot out. "Sorry. The Salem are a fresh memory for many of us on the other side of the pond. The victims were all innocent, of course, but that name evokes certain raw nerves. You Brits disagree but I don't wish that word to be used where I can hear it."

"Okay," Hampton said slowly. "Like I was saying, you seem to be perfectly serious about all this and since I'm not a ... a wizard," Dillard nodded, "and you have described a magical war against mythical creatures,"  
and got a frown, "or at least what you think are real threats. I just don't see how I can possibly be of any help."

Dillard nodded. "May I assume you have accepted the fact that such -  
creatures is your word - exist?" A hint of a nod and he went on, "You served four years in the Royal Army so you know how much it costs to feed and clothe an army on a daily basis. It's not cheap, especially when that army has families. What we really need is financial help, someone that can balance the books, someone I can trust to keep us on an even keel. The logistics have gotten too much for me to handle. I'm spending so much time on just holding things together I no longer have time to do anything else. Hell, I haven't been out in the field twice for months and I belong out there in the middle of a fight, or at least leading the fight. I want you to take over the day to day operations, the money aspects if you will. Plus, you're a Sensitive that can detect and track demons and that helps me more than you can know right now. Interested?"

Hampton thought for a minute before answering. "You are fighting monsters and you want me to finance your operations? Is that it? Where does the money come from? Who would finance such a ludicrous idea anyway? Who are your suppliers? How do you transport your people and goods? How do you transfer funds? Where do you keep your money? You know, all the details."

"If we are to continue this discussion I'll need some assurance you are in the loop, that you understand there is nothing you will ever be able to tell anyone about what you do." Dillard sipped his tea with a hint of a smile on.

Hampton said, "Yeah right, like I'm going to tell people I work for a wizard that chases invisible demons."

"Not really invisible, as you already know," Dillard said, "but you have the basic idea. We work in secret, few people know who we are, especially they don't know what we do. It's better they live their lives not knowing.  
There are those that do know, mostly the ones that cause us the greatest problem, but we find them and put them out of action. You ready to find out your world isn't what you thought it was?"

Hampton said, "Right. I'll give it a go just to see if you're as crazy as I think you are at the moment. I'll take a trip through the looking glass if that's what's needed to ... well ... What the hell. I could use a little change in my life right now. Let's do this. "

Dillard tossed a few coins on the table, stood up and held out his arm.  
"Take hold of my arm and hold on tight." When Hampton had a good grip, he disapparated the both of them.

Hampton shook his head as he looked around at the strange room.  
"What the bloody hell was that?" he asked and held his hand to his spinning head. "I feel like I've been dragged though a knothole and put back together again. Where are we?"

"Headquarters of the Demon Hunters," Dillard said. "You should feel privileged. I don't think but a handful of Muggles have ever been close to this place and you're the first in nearly a century to be inside. What do you think of the place? Oh yes, you were pulled through a knothole of sorts and put back together again. No missing parts, yes?"

Hampton frowned and looked around the large room with its desk,  
mismatched chairs and a frumpy looking couch, pastel painted walls and the heavy oak door with a positively huge brass handle on it. "Who's the teenaged bachelor that decorated this place?"

Dillard smiled then laughed out loud. "Very good, very good indeed.  
Hampton, you're really everything I thought you were." He grinned and chuckled as he watched Hampton frown at him.

"Yes, able to joke after Apparating for the first time," Dillard said with a grin. "It's just cheap stuff I've picked up over the years. Comfortable though and I like to be comfortable when I can. Are the effects of apparition wearing off yet? Feeling dizzy still?"

Hampton glanced around again. "I feel fine. Mind telling me what just happened?"

Dillard waved a chair over and sat down, waved another to his friend and waited until he sat down. Another wave of his wand and a tea pot came out of a cupboard with two mugs in trail, shook a moment and let out steam.  
"Tea?" he offered.

A third wave of his wand and the mugs sat on the desk, the pot hovered over them and poured before settling comfortably on the desktop.  
"You remember what I said about Schrodinger? If you can manipulate the balance, you can be anyplace or any time or velocity, more or less,  
depending on how things balance out. No one has really studied it, but then can you imagine going to Nottingham University Physics department and asking if they can explain how a person can move themselves from one location to another without being in between? Like Schrodinger's cat, the one in the box, you are here and a moment later you are somewhere else with no intervening points. Always wanted to ask one of those guys about it.  
I'd love to see the You Tube vid on that subject. Wonder if they'd lock me up or what?

"Sorry, got sidetracked," Dillard said. "It's called Apparating. Don't know how it's done, only know how to do it. There are limits, warnings really. Once in awhile you hear of someone that never made it to their destination while experimenting. Do they just transfer to another universe?  
Do they lose every atom in their body? If a person apparates into a solid mountain you'd think the mountain would explode or something. If it happened, would it be electrostatic or nuclear in origin as solid rock and a human body try to occupy the same place at the same time? Just moving the air molecules makes a horrendous amount of noise and I especially don't know how the air gets out of the way when I get there so there must be a period of time while one materializes and the resident matter jumps out of the way but I don't know how much time, really. I wonder if I stopped and thought about it while I did it, would I lose my nerve or concentration and just evaporate? I don't think anyone knows and I don't want to find out."

Hampton just gazed at his friend like he'd lost his mind, shaking his head in disbelief. "Your words make sense but it's like listening to a schizophrenic; everything fits but only in a crazy world."

"Ah yes, you do get the point then," Dillard said with a grin. "We don't think about things we do, we don't think about breathing or digestion or even walking, we just do it without thought. Do keep that in mind. It'll help you survive when nothing else will."

Hampton stared at Dillard. "Just how dangerous is this thing you're talking about?"

"A lot of the time it's boring," Dillard said, "but when you get in a fight with a Lamprey Ghoul in a parking garage, you win or you don't. Second place is not a place you want to be, but don't worry, if you're second place you don't have much to worry about, not for very long. Hopefully."

"Hopefully? What's that mean?" Hampton asked. Second place was beginning to sound more than a little horrifying.

"A Lamprey Ghoul sucks your mind out," Dillard said and sipped his tea. "They do it slowly, savoring the images of memory as they slip away from your soul. When the animal level fear starts, they get real excited. If you're lucky, they consume it all at once and you're gone. If they're patient it takes about a day to fully ingest your mind. The few we've found that survived were not worth much. One could still tie his shoes though."

Hampton got that incredulous stare he'd had a moment before, only now he wondered if he'd wandered into a lunatic asylum. "You're talking about someone that ... that has .. I don't know but they were as good as dead. And you talk about it like it's a joke or something. Are all your people as nuts as you?"

Dillard smiled. "It's the only way we can stay sane. If you choose to go on from here, one day you will understand this. Worse, you'll embrace it.  
You ready to have your eyes opened?"

"I don't know how to answer that question," Hampton said. "I have to say I'm curious like you wouldn't believe, but at the same time I'm ... not scared, really. Worried. Anxious. Weirded out to the max would fit right now,  
actually."

"Good on you, old man," Dillard said jovially. "You're honest with your feelings and have no trouble expressing or sharing them. That takes a certain kind of courage and confidence, exactly what I was hoping to find in you. I can see us going out on a search, the two of us, doing the job and getting home alive. I prize honesty and integrity over just about anything.  
Welcome to the Demon Hunters."

CHAPTER TWO: WHAT WE DO

"Welcome to the Demon Hunters," Hampton said to himself as he looked at the paperwork stacked on his desk. "It's still the same old stuff of balancing the books, income and expenses. I suppose I should've inquired more about my duties here before I agreed to doing book-work I'd usually leave to a junior assistant." The pile was reduced by one tally sheet and he sighed as he picked up the next Accounts Payable.

That afternoon Dillard showed up, glanced at the desk to note the piles had changed places from pending to completed and smiled. "Got your head into it, eh?" he asked.

"Still catching up from the last chump that made a mess of it all,"  
Hampton said evenly. "Wouldn't happen to know who that was would you?"

Dillard smiled in amusement. "Why I just might. Some guy that could barely keep his head above the mess would be my guess."

Hampton looked at him and said, "Quite. Actually, it's not all that badly done for someone not in the business. I'll have it straightened out in a day or so then work on reorganizing departments. What's up with you?"

Dillard sat on one of the comfortable mismatched chairs. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out and see what we do around here. We've learned of a threat that's not too bad if we can nip it in the bud before things get beyond our control. Interested? I could use your sensitivity and it would be good practice for you."

Hampton chuffed. "Right, you said I had that but it's a little hard for me to believe. Until the other night I didn't think any of this existed much less being sensitive to it."

"Mere chance," Dillard said. "Your sensitivity protected you by keeping you away from harm until you crossed paths with that ghoul before you could avoid it. Maybe you need to find out what it's like to get up close and personal, see if you can handle it. That's what I'm offering. Want to take a little trip?"

Hampton gazed at his friend. "How about you tell me what your plan is. Of course I'm assuming you have a plan, but someone that leaves two months of bills on their desk doesn't seem much like a priority type person.  
What are we looking at?"

"Ah, an easy one. Blood Ogre," Dillard said. "A bit beneath our normal range of skills and all but we have the assignment and I thought you might like to have a look at this other world. If you're up for it, that is."

Hampton sighed. "Sounds better than this boring stack of bills," he said. "You really must do your payables on time if you expect to keep getting supplied. People don't like outstanding accounts on their A/R sheets."

Dillard glanced at the completed pile of paper. "Yeah, well, you know how it is."

"Yes I do and if this is any indication," Hampton said and waved his hand in the direction of the paperwork, "of how you do things maybe I better find a couple shotguns for us."

"Oh no," Dillard said with a grin. "If you shoot a Blood Ogre it just ticks him off. Better to let me handle it. What I want you to do is to pay attention,  
see what it feels like to be close to something that's not supposed to be there. Work with it, learn how to make it a weapon. Then we'll talk about becoming a weapon yourself. Ready?"

Just outside an old warehouse Dillard put his hand up and clenched it.  
Hampton stopped immediately like he'd been trained over the afternoon,  
watching over the shoulder in front of him. It was much like his days in the Royal Army on maneuvers.

A whisper came to him. "Feel anything?"

Hampton closed his eyes for a moment. "Just a bare tickle but I don't know what it is."

"Hold onto that feeling," Dillard whispered and moved, beckoning with his hand.

Hampton walked as quietly as he could, hardly wanting to breathe for fear of making a sound. He could hear the traffic from a few blocks away,  
the overlay of city noise was a constant background hiss, absolutely nothing from the building they were creeping toward. When Dillard stopped he automatically tried to feel that tickle, sense its direction, its intensity. Was it getting stronger or weaker? Would it change in feeling and quality? He didn't know that either so he kept the tickle in his mind and crept closer. His fingers touched the building and it was like a honeybee buzzing in his hand.

"Stop," Hampton whispered. "I feel something when I touch the steel siding."

Dillard whispered back, "Buzzing or sparking?"

"Both," Hampton whispered.

"Blood Ogre for sure," Dillard said. "Stay close." He moved to a door,  
touched it with his wand and slipped inside, Hampton right on his heels.

"Feel for it," Dillard said. "Direction, intensity, anything to track."

Hampton closed his eyes again, they were pretty useless in the dim light anyway, tried to put his anxiety on the back burner for the moment and felt it. "To the right. Not real close."

"Good," Dillard whispered. He edged forward around a stack of plastic wrapped boxes and both could smell it: a miasmic stench wafting in the air,  
sometimes strong enough to wrinkle the nose, sometimes hardly anything more than a peculiar staleness.

"Straight ahead," Hampton whispered.

They both crept forward, Hampton wondering if the thing could hear his thudding heartbeat as he got a sparking tingle, very strong this time.

"Close," he whispered.

Dillard raised his wand and peered around the pile of boxes and drew back, gave Hampton a brief nod and stepped out with his wand out in front.  
Light shot from the tip to hit with a soft whack of sound then a thump came.  
Dillard waved Hampton forward.

He gave a dry grin and said, "You were spot on," he said looking at the heap on the floor. "Now to send it back." His wand flicked and wove in the air, a fuzzy ball of light forming then leaping forward to surround the thing on the floor ahead with bands of light. The heap shook then greyed out in the wand-lit spell, sort of twisted upon itself, flared bright a moment with an electric arc curving out to touch and splatter against the nearest metal beam and sizzled out of existence. The smell was atrocious.

"Lumos," Dillard said and his wand lit up to shine onto the space that held a creature a moment earlier.

Hampton could see small shriveled bodies, furry things that seemed familiar then realized he was seeing dogs and cats. "What the ..."

"Blood Ogres live on blood, suck it out of their victim then liquify the rest with venom and discard the skins," Dillard said. "Actually, that's a good sign. Hadn't worked up to humans yet. We caught it in time. How'd that sensitivity of yours do?"

"Uh, I guess it was okay," Hampton said as he gazed at the pile of desiccated furry things. "I could feel the buzzing and spark, like you said,  
and it was like I could hear it, pointing the right direction."

Dillard clapped his hand on his shoulder, saying, "Very good, very good indeed. It's so much safer working with someone that can feel that. Usually we go in pairs or triads, spy things out then take action. But with you along I don't have to guess or spy things out, I already know. I can't tell you how much safer that makes it for me so I want you to know how much I appreciate your gift."

Hampton let the idea sink in and said, "Glad to be of help. Is this, I mean, how dangerous was this Blood Ghoul I believe you said, how dangerous was it, really?"

Dillard gave a chuckle and said, "On a scale of one to ten, about a two or three. We try very hard to always have two out on a mission just for backup but I've handled quite a few of these alone."

Hampton nodded. "Then I presume the rest are far more dangerous. Is that right?"

"Uh huh," Dillard agreed. "Lamprey Ghoul like in the garage is a definite three, the one you tangled with was a four, very powerful for its kind, really."

"I'm a bean counter as people usually say," Hampton said. "We take the brunt of the gripes but without us the numbers just don't add up. So what I'm asking is what is your success and failure rates? How many injuries per year? How many people do you really have doing this job and where are they? What is the risk of death in this quixotic quest of yours?"

Dillard gazed at his partner a moment and pointed to the pile of dead animals. "Would you be asking those questions if those had been human bodies? This isn't tilting at windmills, Ham, this is life and death for the hunter and those we protect. The world is safe because of us."

"Yes, yes, I understand," Hampton said. "What I'm asking are questions that I need answers to so I can do my job. Facts and figures. That is why you hired me on, isn't it? Surely it wasn't for my outstanding good looks."

That got Dillard smiling. "Hey, I'm the pretty one here," he said and gave out a laugh. "When we get back we can find all the answers you need.  
For now we should have a look around to see if he brought any playmates along for the ride. And I should get rid of those carcasses. It so upsets people to find ghoul-consumed bodies. Most unappealing, you might say."

CHAPTER THREE: GETTING READY

A month it had taken, a whole month to finally straighten up the mess of the books and get everything back on an even keel. Hampton knew that money was coming in from some account or another, something to do with some Ministry, the government had enough of those to fill a pot or two, and had managed to find out how it was distributed. It was going to take a few more days before he could get the departments reorganized into some semblance of order, likely a good part of that time was going to be spent convincing the leadership they had a budget, money in and product out that was accountable to someone, though he still didn't quite know who that was.

That was right up his alley. He'd taken three companies from receivership to break even then to profitability in his career and this problem child of an organization was no different. Okay, not profitable as it was a service apparently for free. Could they manage to get paid for the job they were doing? If so, just who would that be? The wizards that had erred, or worse yet, those that had deliberately brought these creatures here from wherever they came from, could they be charged? And bloody hell, how were they allowed to do such things? Weren't there laws?

Hampton looked up from the paper he was writing on how to put this group back in order when Dillard walked in with a couple other people.

"Ham, old man, I'd like you to meet Jefferson and Artemis, two colleagues of mine and now yours," Dillard said jovially. "Ready to get out of this confinement and do a bit of travel?"

Hampton looked up from the desk with a frown. "Let's see now. Last time we just went in to see what would happen. Got a glimmer of a plan this time?"

"Why sure," Dillard replied happily. "Let's spend the rest of the day getting a little exercise, say, then we hop the train north and sleep on the way. How's that sound to you?"

As drily as he could he answered, "Sounds just super."

They spent the afternoon drilling on attack strategies and formations,  
codes and signals, running around through several alleys and streets trying to be inconspicuous while maintaining some form of communication between the four of them. When they seemed to be running as a team they were joined by another four and trained all over again as a larger force. One of the new members came up to him holding out her hand.

"Samantha Rollins," she said. "You're the Muggle we've been hearing about?"

Hampton nodded as he huffed breath back in his aching body.

"So glad to meet you," she said. "Things are really happening now that Dill here can concentrate on his real duties. He's been so overworked I don't think he's been home in weeks. Play cards?" He gave her a weary smile.

Two hours later Hampton was feeling muscles he hadn't felt in a long time, felt tired and sore but the discomfort was overridden by a sense of belonging to a group of trained hunters. It was almost like a paramilitary unit the feeling they had between them, an 'us against the world' sensation that gave him the definite impression of being part of something larger than himself. It was an unfamiliar feeling on the emotional level, one he hadn't had in a long time, much like the muscles aching all over his body. And Samantha was so pleasant and cheerful no matter how tired they were.

The train ride wasn't much to talk about, trying to get as much sleep in the compartment as they could while being bounced around. No one disturbed them, in fact hardly anyone else seemed to be on the train but them, though he'd seen plenty of people boarding at the station. Like the tea shop, people were giving them a wide berth but at least now Hampton knew a bit of the how and lots of the why. It was starting to feel normal sitting with little noise around them, people seeming to hustle right past their compartment while making quite sure they were staring straight ahead.  
They definitely did not have any desire to glance through the glass of their compartment.

"Now, this one is living in one of those abandoned apartments," Dillard said, nodding at the dilapidated buildings they were passing half a kilometer west. "The Scottish office of the Ministry is pretty sure of that. They're not sure quite what it is as they're all too frightened to go inside the place. Can't hardly blame them. If they are scared of it then it must be pretty nasty.  
What do you think, Ham?"

Hampton looked at the building and uttered, "Uh, I can't feel anything.  
Am I supposed to?"

Dillard chuckled and said, "I certainly hope not. If you did at this distance it would be more powerful than anything in existence. No, just wanted to get your head into it."

"Thanks loads," Hampton said still looking at the old building across the overgrown grassy field.

They pulled off the road and circled back, driving right past the group of buildings, Hampton idly looking at the old structures with the windows mostly broken out, trash scattered around the tall, unmowed grass. A tingle started at the back of his neck, grew then flared.

"Yaaahhhhh," he let out, grabbing his head and bending over to put his head between his knees.

"Ah, that one then," Dillard said, turning to look over the seat at Hampton. "Alright there?" he asked.

Hampton muttered something that sounded like an expression of doubt of Dillard's ancestry. He looked up with haunted eyes and said, "That was horrible. Like slime washing over me, like spikes ripping into my soul.  
What the hell was that?"

"The pikes you talked about," Dillard said, "was it like hundreds of small pins or more like a single spike being driven in your head?"

"Single," Hampton said. "So, what does that mean?"

Dillard glanced at the other men in the car then said, "Mind Vampire.  
Very much like Dementors but many times more powerful. They consume your mind, much worse than that Lamprey Ghoul in the garage because they understand people and take their time. They tend to keep a stable to feed on. Very patient they are, causing a sense of danger and anxiety then consuming the emotional waves a person gives off. Their victims have been known to last weeks. Of course, there's little humanity left in them in the end. That's what makes it a true vampire, a parasite that feeds on its victim until there' s nothing left to feed on."

Hampton looked back at Dillard with intensity in his gaze. "Promise me, if I end up in its clutches you'll kill me. What I felt, I don't understand how anything that evil can exist. I'd rather die than become its prey."

Dillard glanced around at the other men once again and got a nod from one of them. "Okay. There's a curse called the Inferious curse. It reanimates the dead. It takes a huge amount of power as you can imagine. When the dead body can no longer contain the curse it rots away, leaving the power that created it. There was a war several years ago, the loser had reanimated hundreds, maybe a thousand Inferi in his lust for power. When he was destroyed nothing could contain that power and it was loosed. All at once. A large number of demons were created and my team was imported from the States to deal with it. We have a particular talent in this area.

"We've dealt with quite a few of them but we always suspected there was something in the background we hadn't seen yet. Things never seemed to be completely cleaned up. Demons kept cropping up no matter how hard we put them down and it became obvious it wasn't for lack of ability on our part so we were perplexed like you wouldn't believe. When you came aboard you suggested tracking expenses and an idea came to me. I went back and plotted our missions out and they showed things happening starting at that seaside cave we had to clean out and pointing northward. This trip is the result. We think this is a demon loosed upon the English people at the end of that war. Its power has been reconstituting demons as we destroy them, but since its been on the move it left a trail. Much like an accounting trail as you said."

They turned back onto the main road and headed back to their hotel,  
Dillard taking Hampton to his room and sitting down to talk. "You job has always been to sense and track and you've done a masterful job of it over the last few months, Ham. I want you to know this."

Hampton furled his brow. "I ... I've worked hard," he said tentatively.

"Yes, very much so," Dillard agreed. "So I'm offering to let you beg off on this one." His eyes met Hampton's to hold them for several long moments.

Hampton gazed back, his brow now in a full frown. "I'll stay back if you order me," he said, "but barring that, I'm on your team."

Dillard nodding. "Yes. What I expected from you. But you must already realize this mission is different than what we've done before. If things really go totally bunk I want you to promise to do whatever I tell you, without hesitation, without delay to think about things. This time, we might not have the luxury for explanation."

"No hesitation, no delay. Got it." Hampton held his gaze steady on Dillard's face.

"I salute you sir," Dillard said. "Now, Richardson is out on recce so while he's gone lets start planning."

CHAPTER FOUR: VAMPIRE

Several hours and a murky sunset later Richardson came back looking haggard and disheveled. "It's on the third floor best I could tell from the angles. Monstrous thing, ugly feeling in my guts the whole time I was near the building, like things were crawling in my belly trying to get out. Lost my lunch on the way back it was such a terrible feeling. Have to say I'm not looking forward to this mission, Dill. When we go we'll have to be fast before it overwhelms us, hit it hard with everything we have. We can't let this thing escape. If it settles closer to Edinburgh the death toll could be in the hundreds, maybe thousands. Even with the entire Auror department we wouldn't be able to stop it then, not with that much power sucked into it."

Hampton looked around at the hard faces to see total determination, a look of controlled ferocity flashing around the small room.

Dillard glanced at every member of his team. "You have to know now this one is going to be tough. I offer to let anyone out that feels this is a suicide mission." His eyes met everyone's and settled on Hampton.

"This may be too dangerous for you," he told him. "Not that I doubt your loyalty or courage, Ham, but I want to emphasize the danger here.  
You're not a wizard. You don't have to go."

Hampton kept his gaze steady. "I'm on this team. Just, well, tell me what to do if I screw up."

Dillard gave a 'going to hell and happy to do it' grin. "Just follow me,  
give me directions and we'll make it through this thing."

All of them got up, one putting together some quick food, the rest talking quietly, going over the plan and the fallbacks, eating a little and drinking juices. Dillard came over to Hampton.

"Ham, you asked about what to do if you screw up and I appreciate your confidence," he told him. "There's something I want to tell you. First,  
I'm very pleased with how you've done with us over the last few months. I'll be quite frank and say I'm worried this one might not go well. If we end up in trouble I want you to hightail it out of there, get word back to the office and the Ministry so they can send another team in. It's important you be able to do this."

Hampton nodded and said, "I'll stay with the team if you don't mind."

Dillard nodded and went on to say, "Just like you always have done.  
Good on you. But if things really go to hell I want you to promise to obey whatever I tell you to do. Run or hide, whatever. There's something I've read up on. It's a last ditch thing. If it comes to it, promise you'll do what I tell you."

"I always have," Hampton replied evenly. "You sound like you think you're not going to make it."

"Well I certainly hope I do," Dillard said, "but if it goes to bunk, do whatever I tell you. Don't think about it, just do it. That's all I'm asking."

The two men traded serous gazes a moment longer before Hampton nodded. The feeling in the pit of his stomach told him not everyone was going to be on that train ride back to London come tomorrow, but he'd do his duty. He'd given his word.

An hour later they got out of the cars and started walking toward the group of abandoned apartment buildings, quietly but steadily moving forward. There were eight dark bodies in the twilight, barely visible to each other in the pale wash of the city lights reflected off the cloudy sky overhead. It was damp and near enough to cold they all moved with purpose, rapidly but carefully until they were within a hundred meters of the target building.

Hampton put his hand on Dillard's shoulder. "Very strong. That one,"  
and he pointed to building right in front of them. "It's ... hungry."

Dillard nodded and traded whispers with the rest of the team, all of them walking toward the building with wands out. When they huddled up near a stairwell, Hampton put his palm against the concrete, felt nothing and moved to the steel handrail. Leaning close to Dillard he said. "Powerful but it feels weak, like it needs food. Perhaps some chips?"

Dillard turned and grinned in the wan light, nodding then signaling his team. They all moved up the stairs to the third floor, a wand touched the door handle and it clicked open. Hampton could feel the Presence of the monster they were hunting, turned to see looks of fully switched on people going to a battle, touched Dillard's shoulder and pointed down the hall.

"Very close," he whispered. "Don't think it knows we are here. Nothing like awareness or anything, just the hunger."

They moved down the hall silently, all eyes flicking around as they crept along one wall until Hampton squeezed the shoulder again and pointed to a door. "People," he whispered.

"Demonnic?" Dillard whispered back.

Hampton shook his head and pointed further down the hall. "Three more doors, I think. Very powerful."

"Leave them inside," Dillard whispered. "We go after it first."

Two men led out with wands pointed at the door, but just as they drew close to it, the door burst off its hinges and a black shape poured out into the hallway, touched the two men closest and they fell to the floor. Dillard charged forward with his wand blazing red light at the shadowy blackness,  
two others following with green and blue beams erupting from their wands to connect with the monstrous entity.

The thing bobbed, the beams striking its lower portions, then it turned on its attackers, Dillard and Richardson falling in twin heaps, the third wizard held her beam on the thing and it tried to rotate toward her but she held steady, the green light from her wand splashing across the surface of the back blob. A pop was heard and the beam penetrated, the monster growling in pain as Hampton was hit with waves of furious anger, watching as it turned and sped down the hallway with two other Hunters giving chase. The running wizards' wands lit up and shot beams of green light into the blob,  
halting it partway down the hallway, the growling winding up to a howl then a scream.

Hampton knelt at Dillard's side. "You alive?" he yelled.

"I told you to obey," Dillard gasped out, looking up with eyes barely able to focus. "Take my wand, Ham. I pass it to you. Take it. Do this for me." The last words sounded weak and forced.

Hampton grasped the tip of the wand and felt it vibrate in his fingers.

Dillard locked his eyes with Hampton's. "You need to join the others to kill it. I'm giving it all to you," he said and the wand buzzed furiously between the two men.

Dillard gasped and caught his breath, muttering strange words. "Une ju jap fuqine time. Une ju jap jeten time."

Streams of colored light swam up the wand to roll over Hampton's hand, winding up his arm. Then they sank into his flesh and he felt electric shocks deep in his arm that rushed past his shoulder and spread to every bone in his body, his vision sparkling with bright points of exploding light, his brain seeming to light up like an arc welder.

When he could see again Dillard was lying on the floor, as far as Hampton could tell unconscious or ... or worse. The tingles in his body left his feet and centered on his chest for a moment and he knew inside what he had to do. He looked up to see the others with green beams of light locked onto the beastly blob, one of them collapsed and fell to the floor and the blob moved toward the remaining wizards. It was now or they were all going to die, Hampton knew this with every fiber of his body.

He stood and pointed the wand in his hand at the thing being held in thrall by the rest, his brain lit up and his chest seemed to expand then contract to a single point, a tremendous fury of sparks gathering in his shoulder that ran down his arm to light his hand then moved onto the wand.  
He didn't know the words he said, later he couldn't recall them, but then the concentrated sparks ripped off his hand and shot forward in a yellow-green actinic beam that lit the entire hallway brighter than what the rest could produce together. The thought of Dillard dying on the floor drove him to push every bit of himself into the wand; it lit up even brighter and more waves of pain and fury ripped into his head. He ignored the pain of it and screamed back in fury, the wand pulsing blobs of actinic yellow/green light down the stream to impact the monster with sizzling sounds. The monstrous blob shrieked even louder in his head.

The blob contracted, folded inwards, slowly got smaller, his mind shrieking with its death agony as Hampton poured everything he had into the wand in his hand. He gave his very life, everything he was in his mind as the beam flared brighter than ever before, a loud, weirdly rumbling explosion blowing them all off their feet. When he looked up from the floor,  
the rest of the team was down, his eyes flicked down the hallway to see the walls coated in black char where the monster had been with a few firework looking sparks floating in the air that wobbled and popped out of existence.  
The two bodies that had been closest to the monster were writhing,  
smoldering, tendrils of greasy smoke rising as the energy of the thing's destruction found an outlet and went to ground.

He turned to move on his hands and knees toward Dillard, put a hand on his friend's chest to feel a light warmth through the clothing, moved up and touched his neck. It took a terribly long time to find a pulse, weak and barely discernable but it was there. Another hand touched his and he looked into Samantha's eyes.

"He's alive but barely," Hampton said.

"We need," and the witch gasped and grabbed at her chest. "We need help. I'll ... try," and she looked own the hall to see the rest of the team crumpled on the floor. She lifted her wand and weak sparks trickled out,  
strengthened into a ball that grew in size until she gave it a flick. The ball shot through the nearby wall.

"I called," she muttered and put her hands out to hold herself up. "Is it gone? You alright?"

Hampton looked at his friend barely alive on the floor. "It's gone. I'm okay I guess. Dill's very weak. Everyone else is out of it. We need to make sure they're able to breathe."

He crawled like a baby to the nearest wizard and checked him, found a weak pulse and made sure he was breathing, moved to the next to find no pulse, shook his head and moved on to another he could help. Another pulse but the person was snoring and gasping his breath.

"Help me," he called and Samantha moved to his side. "We need to turn him over so he can breathe easily."

"You sure?" she asked. "I thought on their backs was ..."

"Trust me. Help me turn him over." They both heaved and managed to get the man turned over, pulled one leg up to position him partly on his side and made sure his head was right. A light touch of fingers felt warmth coming from his nose and they moved on. By the time they were done they had taken care of those they could help, there was nothing they could do for the still smoldering bodies. They both leaned against the wall to catch their breaths and looked at each other, eyes showing pain and a weariness that went deep into them both.

Hampton turned to look back down the hall and raised a finger. "Which room was it, the one with people in it? We should check."

With groans and mumbled words they managed to get on their feet with hands on the wall to hold themselves up, a step, another step and they staggered toward the door closer to the entrance. Hampton put a hand on the door and nodded. "This one."

A creak and the door opened but it was too dark to see inside.  
Samantha put her wand out and a wan light glowed on the end, slowly brightening until they could see several figures huddled in a corner, a few more laid out on the floor in odd positions, none of them moving.

"We're here to help," Samantha croaked out. "Here to help you. To get you back home." Sunken faces and rheumy eyes stared at them blankly,  
only the fact that they had arms and legs sticking out of their filthy clothes indicated they were human. Eyes followed them but showed no recognition until they got close. The ones in the front pushed back into the huddled people behind until they were just a mass of limbs with terrified faces.

"They look pretty bad," Hampton said. "The help you called for, will they bring a doctor with them?"

"Healer at least, maybe," she said. "I don't even know if the call was strong enough to make it anywhere. I'm still pretty weak but I can try again."

"No. Save your strength ... until you can be sure," he told her,  
catching his breath.

"But these people, they need help," she said.

"I know and I wish we could help them but we're too worn out at the moment," he answered. "You have to do the math. You don't have enough in you to help but you will soon. Look at the problem before you and answer the question for yourself. You can't help others if you can't keep breathing. A bit of rest and we can ..."

Both of them turned at the popping sound, Hampton surprised to see the wand still in his hand pointing out the door. He peeked around the edge and saw someone in the hall, a wand glowing in his hand.

"Stop where you are," Hampton called out as best he could. "Who are you?"

The man in the hall kept his wand pointed and said, "Hamish Macintosh. Scotland Auror's office. Who are you?"

"Hampton," he said and got a twinge of surprising humor deep in his gut. "Demon Hunter."

"What did you say?" came from the man.

"We have wounded, some dead we think," Hampton said with more force in his voice. "We need medics. We also have a dozen Muggles," and that twinge pulled at something inside, "here that are in bad shape. Look around you. Those men at your feet have been attacked, mentally and psychically attacked. I said we need hep so either start helping or get out of our way."

The man lowered his lit wand and saw the bodies on the floor. "Dear lord. What happened here?"

"When you have a need to know I'm sure your superiors will tell you what you are seeing," Hampton said. "Now, you going to get help or stand there wondering what you've walked into? If you're not back with medics in five minutes I'm going to have a little chat with your boss in the Ministry offices that will not be good for anyone so get a move on."

The man stood there and surveyed the people on the floor a few moments, gave a little turn and popped out of existence.

"The Ministry offices?" Samantha asked with a small grin.

"Sometimes a little creativity gets results faster and we don't have the time nor need to explain ourselves," he said. He snorted once and said, "I don't even know who this Minister person is. Only heard mention now and then in the course of business. Who is he anyway?"

Samantha Rollins snickered and put her hand on Hampton's shoulder.  
"I like you. Nothing like a little nerve and a boat load of chutzpah to get things done. Now I see why Dill wanted to bring a Muggle onto the team."

She looked at Hampton then down at the wand glowing faintly in his hand. "At least I thought you were a Muggle. How are you doing that?"

"Dillard," he said. "Made me hold this," and held the still glowing wand up, "and said some funny sounding words I didn't recognize. Next thing I know I'm blasting that demon thing and feeling every fiber of my body going into keeping the light flowing. So was everyone else, those still on their feet,  
not like it was only me. I don't know what happened, I just did it. Still, it sorta feels right, holding this."

Samantha's eyes widened. "I ... I didn't know that was possible. I heard of something like it, wizards joining wand power, but never heard of anyone transferring, I think that's what happened, their power to another.  
And to a Muggle? That's the craziest thing I ever encountered and I've been with the Demon Hunter group for six years. Thought I'd seen most anything possible and quite a few things impossible. Weirdest thing I ever heard."

"You should be standing in my shoes," Hampton said. "Now, we better check up on everyone while we wait. Make sure they're breathing, that's all we can do for now. Those others back in that room, nothing we can do for them at present. Too traumatized I'd guess. Maybe the medics can put them right when they get here."

A pop sounded down the hall and a wand lit. "You the Demon Hunters?" a voice called out.

"That's right. You?" Hampton asked, wand pointed.

The wand down the hall glowed then shot a ball out, pops coming from behind the man along with a couple grunts. Two doors opened and men came out. "Tight space," one said.

"Where's the wounded?" another voice asked.

Hampton pointed his wand to the floor to light up the six inert bodies,  
wondering how many were going to make it. He knelt next to Dillard, felt the still weak pulse and said, "This is our team leader, Lionel Dillard. He's weak but breathing. We did what we could ..."

"Yes," a voice said and several people came forward with small bags hanging off their shoulders. "We'll take over now. What happened here?"

These were medics and needed to know the truth. "Vampire Demon,"  
Hampton said and got a weird look in return. "It's gone now but it got a couple before we could stop it."

"We'll have to apparate them," someone kneeling close to a fallen man said. "Yeah, dangerous but it's worse leaving them here. No choice, really,"  
he said to his partner. He reached out a hand and popped out, the other medic reached and popped, more came forward to make cursory checks and they took their patients with them.

When they came back one eased Hampton away from Dillard and popped out with his body. Hampton looked around to see the hallway clear of the fallen, only Samantha and himself along with several rather tough looking grim faced wizards checking each and every room. When they all gathered back one of them stepped forward.

"Darius MacClagon, Head Auror, Scotland office of the Ministry," he said calmly. "What exactly happened here?"

Hampton looked at the man and said, "Sorry. Can't really say at the moment. There's Muggles in the room behind us. They need medical help.  
Are your medics coming back for them?"

The man frowned. "Muggles? Why the devil were you practicing magic with Muggles? Don't you know any better?"

Hampton stepped up to put himself inches from the man. "You are not authorized to know anything except to help us. This is way above your pay grade."

"How dare..." the man started.

"I dare more than you could possibly believe," Hampton said with his voice pitched in a commanding tone. "You have been given your orders so get some help for those poor people back there. When we're back safe and sound I'll ask if we can talk to you about what happened here. Until then,  
carry out your duties. If you find you cannot follow instructions I'm sure I can arrange a little chat up with the Ministry but they'll tell you the same thing only it's not likely they'll be all cuddly like me."

Neither man moved. Hampton decided a little tact might work and said, "Look. I follow orders same as you. Operational Security, don't you know. It's not up to two responsible leaders like us to decide these things,  
we just do as we're told. But I have to tell you I'm deadly serious about that chatup. Sorry. It's just orders, you understand."

The Auror sucked in a deep breath and sighed it out. "Yeah, alright. I'll get the medics back."

Hampton thought a second and said, "I might say the fewer people that know about this the better it is for the both of us. Some things are not for disclosure to those that may not understand the jobs we have to do to protect them. And we can do our best for them by having the fewest number possible knowing or speculating on what happened here tonight. I'll talk to my boss when he recovers to see what we can tell you. Until then I ask you to trust my judgement in this matter."

They looked each other over then the Auror snorted, moved past Hampton and looked in the room with the open door. He returned a minute later with a worried and angry look on his face. "I don't know what happened here but I do know something horrible had to have happened to those poor folks. I'll see to them. It may take some special doings but I'll get things on the move."

He looked around and shook his head and turned back. "I really do hope you can tell me about all this. I have people I'm responsible for and bosses I'm responsible to. Anything this serious," and he waved his hand at the blackened, peeling outline on the wall, "anything that can cause that much damage without blasting the whole bloody building down is something I need to know about. I look forward to an explanation other than, let's see here, a badly fought duel amongst sotted partiers gone very bad." One side of his mouth raised in a simulacrum of a grin, a nod to Hampton and he moved back toward the door to the people in there.

CHAPTER SIX: RETURNING

Dillard was sitting up in bed when he smiled at Hampton and held out his hand. "I understand you did a number on the Auror that showed up.  
From what I hear it was a genius performance. If there was a medal I could give you I'd do it in a second. Outstanding work, Ham."

Hampton actually blushed a little, something a grown man doesn't do often and certainly would never talk about. "Well, it just seemed the thing to do. You've always impressed on me how we must keep our work undercover. But that's neither here nor there at the moment. I think I have something of yours I need to give back."

He held out the wand and Dill took it, looking at it then frowning as he turned it around in his fingers. "Feels weird, like it doesn't belong to me. I ve had it for so many years, I've done so much with it and now it feels ... it's just a piece of wood." He gave it a flick and frowned again as nothing at all happened.

"Yes," Hampton agreed. "Do you remember the battle, what you did?"

"I remember going in, seeing my men fall trying to kill the thing then it gets pretty fuzzy," Dillard said, giving his wand another flick without result.

Hampton chuckled at the action. "I should bring you up to snuff then,"  
he said and told him of taking his wand, the feeling of power running up his arm and blooming fire in his chest then destroying the Mind Vampire.

"I can't remember the words you used," he said, "it sounded old but in a foreign language I've never heard. I was rather hoping you'd remember what you did. It doesn't feel right when I hold your wand, like something is in me that doesn't belong. Is there a way you can take it back, what you did? It's not mine. It belongs to you."

"Ah yes," Dillard said with a dreamy look. "I remember what I did now.  
It's an ancient spell. You see my grandparents came from Albania and they taught me the language by having me read the magic books they still had. I know what I did. I gave you my life, my power, everything. A bit surprised it actually worked and even more surprised it didn't kill me. I'd have to read up on the counterspell, I certainly hope there is one, then we'll see. I think I'll have someone take a look in my office as long as I'm still in this bed. Give me something to do."

A week later Hampton, Dillard, Samantha Rollins and a few others were in Dillard's office looking at each other nervously. Hampton and Dillard were seated next to each other, the others standing, glancing at each other.

"You ready?" Dillard asked.

"I guess so," Hampton said. "You sure this'll work?"

Dillard grinned. "Not really. It's very old magic but it should work. Like we talked about, you need to say the words and imagine yourself pushing the fire into your chest, then push it down your arm. You said it didn't hurt when I did it so it should be fairly comfortable now. When you're ready, we'll begin."

Hampton took a deep breath and said, "Let's get this show on the road. If it doesn't work, you have to know I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life."

Dillard stared at his friend then burst out in laughter. "Like I said awhile ago, first you use it then you embrace it. You're a true Demon Hunter, Ham. If things don't work out, I want you to know I hold you in the highest esteem. The bravest man I think I could ever hope for a friend."

The shook hands one more time then the other people in the room pointed their wands with beams of light coming from then, joining as they curved around the two seated men in the center of the circle, wove together then fused into a band that widened and arced from the ceiling to the floor to cover the two men in the center.

Dillard and Hampton nodded to each other. "We're warded," Dillard said. "Concentrate the power, move it, push down your arm and through the wand. Keep saying the words and keep pushing. You're plenty strong enough to do this. I have every confidence in you." He gave a smile and gripped the end of the wand.

Hampton gripped the wand's handle when he felt it move and muttered the words he'd been taught. "Une ju jap fuqine time. Une ju jap jeten time. Une ju jap fuqine time. Une ju jap jeten time."

Over and over the words came from him until he could feel a tightness in his chest, felt it gather and warm him from the inside, heat growing as it concentrated and shrank. Then he imagined the fiery feeling ball, a miniature sun seeming to shine though the flesh of his body, move from his chest to his shoulder, pushed it down his trembling arm to feel it in his hand. He urged it forward and it moved down his fingers, pain scorching them as it crossed over to the wand.

He opened his eyes to see his hand gripping the furiously glowing wand, the bones of his fingers showing with the intense light pulsing down his wrist and into the wand. It burned a moment more then the glow flared once and winked out. He stared at his hand, imagining the skin peeling back from the burning pain but the pain was already gone, his skin and bones intact, the wand vibrating a buzzing feeling onto his fingertips that didn't go further than the outer skin.

"You alright?" Hampton asked, looking at Dillard's pale face. "Did it work?"

Dillard turned tired eyes up to his friend. "I don't know, but we're both still alive and that's something. You okay?"

"Yes. A bit weak feeling."

"Good. I'm glad you're not hurt," Dillard said. "I suppose we better let the others know we made it. Wasn't all that sure it wouldn't've killed one or both of us. It's great to be alive, yes?"

Hampton laughed and felt his skin prickle, looked around and the protective warding sphere over their heads wavered, separated into woven strands, shrinking as they parted until there were only a few thin strings remaining overhead. These wavered, dimmed, then winked out with tiny little pops. The others in the room stood still a moment then Dillard gave a big grin. All of them moved in close, touching the two seated men to assure they were still alive and making soft sounds while fingers brushed against them.

"Alright, alright," Dillard said. "We made it, both of us. Thanks for the warding. I'm sure it helped a lot. Thank you all once again. Glad to be among such wonderful folks."

He turned to Hampton. "And you, my friend, there's not enough words in the language to describe the respect I have for you. You were a wizard with power and you gave it back without hesitation. Thanks to you I'm whole again."

Hampton wanted to return the compliment but couldn't think of anything close to what he felt inside. He held out his hand to grip Dillard's,  
both men locking gazes for a long time. When they finally released their grip he asked, "So, when's our next mission?"

Dillard guffawed then laughed out loud, brought his hand up and waved his wand. A teapot banged a cupboard door open and raced toward them, Dillard grinning widely at being able to use his magic once again. Half a dozen cups were trying hard to keep up then tinkling as they jostled together in a bunch, settling on the table around the steaming pot.

Another wave and the pot filled the cups. Dillard took one in his hand and waited until the rest had theirs, raised his and said, "The best Demon Hunters on Earth. It's such a privilege to be amongst such good people." He took a sip and everyone joined in.

He looked at each member of his team, raised his cup and said, "To missing comrades. They gave their lives for the safety of others. We shall not forget their sacrifice," and took another sip, followed by the others.

"Everyone take a week off," he told them. "Be with your families,  
enjoy your children, pay your respects to the families of Jefferson,  
Richardson and Artemis. When you come back we'll get back to work.  
There's always something for people like us to do. Thank you all for your efforts to keep the world a safe place to live."

Samantha turned to Hampton. "Uh, I don't have family here," she said,  
reaching out to touch her fingers to his hand. "I have a friend with a small cottage close to the Riviera. If you don't have anywhere else to go ..."

Hampton got a grin on and wrapped his hand around hers.

A/N. Gotta have one, right?

Tell me what you think. Sort of AU but within canon, post Hallows. So where does the energy utilized by magic come from and go to? If you make something disappear, where does it go? I don't agree with MacGonagall's statement at the Ravenclaw door. Energy must be conserved, light speed can't be exceeded, matter cannot occupy the same space at the same time.  
Bit of a quandary, that.

Head cannon goes off, a banner floating to the ground saying, "Please Review" 


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